It is the same thing that we are told over and over
In all our classes, all our days
For one hundred and eighty days on end.

In math we are told about the Pythagorean theorem and Pathetic Fallacy~~
But some of us still do not know the value of "X".

It is after parents get called from teachers saying that their child is:
hyperactive
easily distracted
unfocused
doesn't do the proper thing
And that their child, who is brilliant, cannot be in a Level One class.

We all have different abilities and thought processes.
Why is it that a class full of individuals is tested by all of the same means?

Exams are the way society tells you your worth.

But it is the same society that:
says abortion is wrong but then looks down on teenage parents
promotes natural beauty but has models flushed with makeup, hair extentions, false lashes, and nails
shows slender people for their weight loss commercial that look like an hour glass already
has pastors that preach charity but own jets and sports cars
has Imams who preach against greed but are all fat
has parents who want their child to get a good education to get a good paying job but hate how rich the neighbors are
is run by governments that preach peace but endorse war
Has colleges who want smarter kids but increase the tuition

What does it mean to "make the mark?"

to the kids who study hard and barely miss the target
to the kids that know what it feels like to be worth that D or that A when a teacher hands back a test
to the kids who are never good enough in their English teacher's eyes
to the kids whose writing is missing key literary techniques or was too informal to be understood

What does it mean to "make the mark?"

to the math teacher who pesters you about trying harder when you can't tell them "X" but can tell them the date of any war
to the science teacher who tells you to know the periodic table and yells in distress of their 'worst student'

We're told everything that we learn we'll use the information again but never do when we walk out the door.

They try to prepair you for the world, but they don't prepair you for life.

always being the second best
not getting the scholarship that you needed to go to college
not getting the solo on your last concert night.

not being able to make the mark

What does it mean to "make the mark?"

What is a poet?

Is it a writer who rhymes
in perfect time

Or a person who captures a moment
like a sunset with a crisp breeze to calm the humidity
with streaks of a cool yellow, and a dimmed down orange
light pinks and wispy clouds
in the dimming light

But what is a poet?

Without a pen and paper to capture their words
or a mouth to speak them
or a mind to think them

What is a poet?

without a life
without a story
without love or misery
without pain
without smiles

Is it a tortured soul or a happy idiot?

No, a poet is a poet.
With a mind to think and a soul to speak.

I would rather travel the world,
than sit in an office.
I would rather sail the seas,
than sit in traffic.
I would rather climb mountains,
than sit in a seminar.
I would rather explore the seven wonders,
than sit in a meeting.
I would rather live life being happy,
than sit to make money.

I'm not the person I used to be,
honestly I'll never go back.

I found a power higher that the one I knew,
one that would change everything.

After hearing hopeless prayers,
I wondered if I should even try.

But then I remembered that day,
I'll never forget.

In a dimly lit room;
In an old, creaky church,
there was a room.

Inside there was a breathtaking sight;
thousands of paper doves,
each a different color,
each a different prayer.

The darker the color of the dove,
the darker the prayer.
Almost every dove was grey or black,
But amount the few there were reds and yellows.

Even though my doubt rushes through me,
I still believe.

All of these people were like you and me.
except they handed everything over;
not to billion dollar corperations,
designer clothes,
but to the Lord.

Even though my doubt rushes through me,
I still believe.

I guess this is my prayer;
to be taken and excepted,
not laid down to rest,
but to be heard by someone who will never turn their back on me.

Even though my doubt rushes through me,
I still believe.

What's more deadly,
a gun or a thought?

A gun gives you the opportunity,
but a thought pulls the trigger.

Welcome to our Society,
where the teens are depressed,
and the students are stressed,
where people will give you hate,
on what you wear and what's your weight,
where there's ***, no hugs,
no candy, just drugs,
where we cut for an escape,
and the parents beat and ****,
where laws forbid the gay,
and everything is weary or gray,
so I hope you enjoy your visit with Society,
just try not to get depressed and anxiety.

My feet sank into the warm sand,
my skin, barley even tanned.
Catching a whiff of the salty breeze,
which bring back memories that send me to my knees.

Finally I am here,
the warm golden sand changed with the tide coming near.

The sun was laying down to rest,
proving tomorrow would be at its best.
The warm colors of summer rose once more,
baby blue, light pink, mellow yellow and cool orange lit up the shore.

The golden sand was no more,
and the dark sky came, oh what a bore.
But tomorrow I will return,
for the colors of summer is what I yearn.

You know that feeling:
to be wasted on hope
and high on a dream
while low on aspiration
and loaded with doubt.

You know those thoughts:
about dreary memories
and scornful actions
with broken ideas
and frustrating decisions.

You know those worries:
about what will come
and who you'll meet
with a side of who will you be
and who you might see.

But you don't know:
that now matters the most
and the past is over
while who you are is at stake
and you can't see who you'll be.

But please, don't think you know:
that today is done
because tomorrow hasn't begun.

2 a.m. is for the poets
who can't sleep
because their minds
are alive with words
for someone who's not there.

2 a.m. is for the lonely
who are in love
with the loved
but aren't loved back.

2 a.m. is not for the happy
who sleep comfortably
without a care in the world.

2 a.m. is for the broken
who lay awake
in a dark room
where the dark
is more comforting
than the light.

The thing with a broken clock is
you can always tell
exactly
when it stopped ticking

With people it isn't so easy
and sometimes
you can't even tell
                 they're broken.